Midnight Heat Page 10

  “Next time.” She reached for the waistband of his pants. She had his buckle undone and the zipper halfway down when the phone rang. Dane stilled, Adria didn’t. “Don’t. Let the machine get it.”

  Bracing his weight on one arm, he pulled her shirt from her pants.

  The machine clicked on. “You’re kidding yourself if you think spreading your legs for the investigator will help your cause,” the caller said in a low, rough whisper. The gender was difficult to discern.

  They both froze.

  “Leave it alone,” the caller continued. “And leave Colbourne alone. You’re in over your head. And his. It’s over. You lost.”

  Dane was across the room before Adria could take a single breath. But the click of the disconnection sounded just as his hand hit the phone. He was too late.

  He lifted the receiver anyway, then slammed it back on the base. “Damn!”

  Adria jerked into action, yanking her shirt down as she scrambled off the step.

  “No!” Dane made a chopping motion with his hand. “Stay where you are.”

  Adria was so taken aback, she followed without question. She watched, her heart still pounding, only not with passion, as he moved to the side of her front window.

  He carefully nudged apart the blinds and scanned the street. “No cars on the curb, two cars in driveways. A red Bronco two doors down, this side of the street, and a gray Honda three doors down across the street.”

  “Those belong there,” she confirmed. “I’ll check from upstairs, the view is better.” She half expected him to stop her and demand that he be the one to check.

  “Be careful,” was all he said.

  She knew him well enough to realize his respect wasn’t easily won. And apparently he knew her well enough to understand how important it was to her to be taken seriously, to be considered an equal. Her nerves were still jangled, but she found a smile for him. “I will.” She climbed up a step. “Not exactly how I expected to end up in my bedroom.”

  “I remember exactly where we left off.” He crossed the room to stand by the stairs. All business now, he said, “After you check the backstreet, I want you to throw a few things together. I don’t think it’s safe to stay here.”

  She didn’t either. “I guess we can go to a hotel.”

  He shook his head. “No hotels. If this person is tracing your every move, they’ll figure it out.”

  “So where do we go?”

  “To my place.”

  “That’s safer? It’s the first place they’ll look.”

  “I don’t intend to stay there, but I have to contact someone who can help us out and get a few things as well.”

  She nodded. “Okay, I trust you.”

  “I won’t forget that either.” She took another step, but he stopped her by putting a hand on hers. The warmth of his skin, the strength in his fingers, comforted her.

  “Don’t use a suitcase, just a large handbag or something.”

  She nodded again, not trusting herself to speak, and ran quickly up the stairs.

  “Who is Jarrett McCullough?”

  Dane was thankful that was all Adria asked. He didn’t want to have to explain the cryptic message he’d just left on Jarrett’s answering machine.

  “He’s a friend. The best.”

  He scooped up his Coke and notes and sat on a barstool across the room from Adria. She was curled up on the end of his couch nursing an iced tea.

  He’d chosen the couch as he’d chosen everything else in his house—for comfort and utility. Now he had to admit the place did look a bit drab. If what was surfacing in him was some latent urge to decorate, at least he’d started with the best room brightener he could think of. Adria.

  She studied him for a moment. “You don’t have too many friends, I’d wager,” she said.

  He tried to look affronted. He wasn’t too keen that she’d realized just how easily he shut most people out. Even his sister’s well-meaning teasing hadn’t woken him up to that fact.

  “You’re intimating I don’t play well with others?”

  “Not at all. But I can’t see you letting anyone too close either. In fact, I’ll bet ten to one you’ve known Jarrett since you were kids, before your walls were too high to scale. He’s one of the Musketeers you mentioned, isn’t he?”

  He glanced at the table that doubled for his desk over in the corner of the small living room. It was cluttered with open books, charts, piles of folders, mangled plane parts. And one photo. He looked back at her.

  She wasn’t the least bit repentant. “So I glanced at your ‘collection’ while you were fixing my tea. Call it professional curiosity.”

  He thought of all the things he wanted to share with her, none of them remotely professional in nature. “Those plane parts don’t belong in my collection. They’re bits and pieces of ongoing investigations. Most of what I’ve kept is at work.”

  It went unsaid that since he spent most of his time there, it made sense to keep any personal mementos there. But he knew she didn’t judge him wanting because of that.

  The tension eased out of him slowly; his body relaxed. He let out a long, slow breath as he drank in the sight of her. She made him feel as if he’d been holding his breath all his life … waiting. For her.

  “Who’s the other boy in the photo?”

  “Zach Brogan.” His smile was slight, but he was enjoying the instant reaction he always got from Adria when he tried one out, so he was making an effort to do it more often. “He just married the girl in the photo.” The smile broadened a bit more easily. “My twin sister, Dara.”

  “Your twin?”

  He’d surprised her. “You say that like you feel sorry for the world in general that there are two of us.”

  She shook her head. “No, not at all. Something about the way she’s looking at the three of you tells me she was probably the only person who kept you guys in line.”

  Dane stepped over to the desk. He didn’t have to look at the picture to know every individual grain of color in it. He picked it up and crossed to the couch. Adria lowered her feet to the floor and Dane sat close beside her, holding the photo so they could both look at it.

  “This was taken the summer before my dad died. He was the one who took it. Zach and I had found this old spring out on Jarrett’s farm property.”

  “Where was this?”

  “Madison County, right smack in front of the Blue Ridge Mountains.”

  “Looks beautiful.” She traced a finger over the tree and small watering hole to the side of the cluster of tanned, smiling kids.

  “It was. I figured out how to get the spring dug out and Zach constructed the rope swing on the tree. It took almost all summer before the water got deep enough to swim in, but that August we spent every day out there.” He smiled at the memories. “The Three Musketeers.”

  “Four,” Adria put in, pointing at Dara.

  Dane shot her a wry look. “My sister would love you.”

  “I bet she didn’t let a little male chauvinism slow her down one bit.”

  Dane tensed a little. “No, not Dara. She was knocked hard for a loop when Dad died. She’s lost a few heroes in her life.”

  “And Zach?”

  Dane’s laugh was still rusty, but it felt good. “Loves her so much it makes me sick.”

  “Said like a true brother.”

  “Zach Brogan was the last man Dara ever thought would be a hero. She’d pretty much closed herself off.”

  “Like you?” she asked.

  “Yeah. But for different reasons.” He paused, then said, “Actually, Zach is about the last guy I’d have ever chosen for my brother-in-law.”

  Adria’s eyes widened at the slight edge to his tone. “Why? I thought he was your best friend too?”

  Dane shook his head, feeling awkward as he realized just how many levels there were to real intimacy. In a way, he felt more vulnerable now than he had been naked by the picnic table. “He still is,” he said finally. “Zach is a thri
ll seeker, by blood and by profession. Let’s just say that I’d trust him to get me off a mile-high cliff without a scratch, but I wouldn’t trust him with my sister.”

  “Also spoken like a true brother.” She added, “Which, considering I don’t have one, makes my opinion worth nil on this subject, I guess. But if he loves her, then it can’t be too bad a match.”

  “No,” he admitted. “It’s not. In fact, it’s great and I’m happy for both of them. Dara’s happier than I’ve ever seen her.”

  “I take it they’re newlyweds?”

  “Do you think I wear white tuxedos for kicks?”

  Adria grinned broadly. “I’m sorry you had to be called away from such a momentous occasion. Although I guess it’s not the first time.”

  Dane remembered how odd he’d felt as Zach and Dara had said their vows. Proud, happy, confused … lonely. He’d chalked it up to having watched Jarrett say those same words not a month or so earlier. He was the last unattached Musketeer.

  Not that he wanted to be attached, or envied Zach and Jarrett, he’d told himself.

  He looked at Adria—and questioned every decision he’d ever made about his life as a single man.

  “Is Jarrett married now too?”

  “Yes. The wedding was a few months ago.”

  The silence that spun out between them thrummed with anticipation. Dane had no idea what he was waiting for. He started to stand, intent on returning the picture and getting back to mapping out their strategy. She held him back with a simple hand on his arm.

  “I bet it’s strange having your foundation altered so swiftly,” she said. “Maybe you don’t even think about them, or see them that often. But they are your closest friends, and, in many ways, you define yourself by your personal relationships. Then they make this big change, and suddenly nothing’s the same anymore.”

  “You’re spooky, you know that?”

  She shook her head. “Nah. I may not have siblings or childhood buddies, but I know how I felt when I lost my grandfather, then my father. I know how it altered how I thought of myself, and therefore how I thought of Tony.”

  “Death is a lot more profound than marriage. Not to mention permanent. I still have Zach and Jarrett in my life.”

  She let her hand slide down to his, let her fingers rest between his. “True. You’re lucky. Don’t lose sight of that.”

  Dane twined his fingers with hers. He didn’t have to tug too hard to get her to move closer. Another little tug and she was in his arms. He kissed her, slowly, leisurely, memorizing her lips, her taste. He wanted to savor it. Save it.

  “Yes,” he whispered against that spot below her ear. “I’m just beginning to realize how lucky I am.”

  Adria was starting to writhe beneath him when the phone rang. Dane swore. “This is getting ridiculous.”

  Adria was breathless, but said, “At least we hadn’t taken our clothes off.”

  “I’m beginning to doubt if I’ll ever have that distinct pleasure again.” The phone rang a third time and his machine picked up. Adria stiffened beneath him. He pulled her closer, wrapping an arm around her, the protective urge instantaneous. That she let him brightened his mood a little.

  “Aramis, Athos here,” said the caller.

  Adria heaved a sigh of obvious relief. Dane reached for the portable phone without letting her go. “That was fast,” he said into the phone.

  “I’m on my honeymoon. This better be life or death, buddy.”

  “Why do I get the feeling I could have called ten months from now and gotten the same answer?”

  Jarrett chuckled. “Yeah, well, sue me.”

  The ache that had been in Dane’s chest since the night his sister had taken her vows eased slightly. He was truly happy for both his friends and their wives. And not so confused anymore either, he thought when Adria’s hand crept into his.

  “You know how I love fairy-tale endings,” Dane said soberly, turning to the matter at hand.

  “Yeah. Always seems to be another dragon, though, you know?”

  “You got it. Always another Rapunzel in the tower, looking to get out.”

  “Where’s a good safe castle when you need one, eh?”

  “My thoughts exactly.”

  “You talk to Porthos?”

  “Nah. D’Artagnan would kill me.”

  Another rusty chuckle. “Yeah, if Porthos didn’t first.” There was a pause, then: “I don’t think Sleeping Beauty here will mind too much.” There was a squeal on the other end just before the phone was muffled.

  Dane felt his neck heat.

  A moment later Jarrett spoke again. “Remember the summer of eighty-nine?”

  Dane thought back. The three of them had met out past Culpepper in the middle of the night to get an early start on a climbing trip. Only Zach would consider parasails standard mountain-hiking equipment. It had been one helluva weekend.

  “Yes,” he answered. “And so does my back.”

  “Same time, same place.”

  “Thanks.” It had been a long time since he’d asked anything of his friends. And lately he hadn’t been much of a participant in Musketeer adventures. “I wouldn’t have called, but this one … I owe you.”

  “It’s about time, Aramis. Or should I say Romeo?”

  Dane grinned and tightened his hold on Adria. “Must be contagious.”

  “D’Artagnan might have forgiven you for this one.”

  “One step at a time, brother, one step at a time.”

  “I hear you. But I’m here to say, happily ever after is pretty damn good. Take care of yourself.” He hung up.

  This peaceful, content Jarrett was not the intensely driven, private person Dane had grown up with. He almost felt guilty for dragging Jarrett back into the intrigue business. But he’d had no choice. Jarrett still had the second-best contacts on earth.

  The person with the first best was his next call.

  “Everything okay with Athos?” Adria asked.

  Considering their intimate journey into his past, Dane didn’t doubt for a moment Adria had figured out his part of the coded conversation with Jarrett.

  “Better than all right. Although it doesn’t feel too good asking the guy to help.”

  “You’d do the same for him.”

  “Yes, I would. But it’s not the same. Not anymore. He has someone besides himself to worry about.”

  Matching his seriousness, Adria said, “I appreciate all you’re doing for me. I imagine asking for help isn’t on your list of favorite things to do. If there was any way I could pay you back—”

  Dane cut her off with a shake of his head. He reached up and brushed back several wayward strands of hair from her cheeks. “Maybe he and I have more in common than I realized.”

  “Dane, I can take care of myself. Don’t—”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said, his voice suddenly tight. He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how this is all going to shake out. Whether you’ll want to be with me a week from now, a month from now.” She looked as if she had wondered the same thing. “But I do know I want to make love to you again. On a bed, on the floor, against the wall. In the kitchen, the bedroom, and at twenty thousand feet in a sky that matches your eyes.” She gasped and his body went rock hard in response. “I want to know about the stories your dad told you at our picnic table, your granddad’s time in a DC-3, and why you became the best air-traffic controller the Mike Munroney Aeronautical Center has ever graduated.” He pushed his fingers into her hair, cupping her head as he tilted her face to his. “I want you. All of you.”

  Her mouth was less than a breath away from his. “Then make that other call and get this thing moving.” Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “Because I want those very same things and I don’t want any more distractions.”

  “I’m calling, I’m calling,” he said, but he was kissing her. He couldn’t not kiss her.

  Their passion rapidly escalated until Adria nudged Dane away. “This is insan
e. You, me, those creepy phone calls.” She shivered and Dane drew her more tightly against him. “I just want it over. One way or the other. I’m not too sure I even care about the third plane at this point.”

  Dane relaxed his hold on her. “Yes, you do. You’re just tired and spooked and worried about losing a job you’ve given your life to. What’s happening between us isn’t lessening the confusion.” When he started to move away, she grabbed his arms, her grip strong, but he didn’t let her talk. “Maybe we should cool things down. Maybe I should be doing my job and letting you focus your energies on that damn plane and on keeping your job.”

  “Maybe so,” she said. “But life doesn’t hand us things in neat little packages, you know. We just get it hurled at us in ungainly globs.”

  Despite his best intentions, Dane gave in to her teasing. “I’m not sure I like being an ‘ungainly glob.’ ”

  Adria traced his face with her fingers, spending a painfully long, body-tightening time on his lips. “Yeah, but you’re my ungainly glob.” He bared his teeth and playfully nipped at her finger. “Do you really think it’s necessary to do all this cloak-and-dagger stuff? I mean, I could do the scarf-and-sunglasses bit and check into a local hotel for a few days while you get your last source to run down our fake reporter.”

  “I wouldn’t have contacted Jarrett if I didn’t think it was necessary. I’m not too comfortable with you even being here this long. I’ve got the feeling your every move—and quite possibly mine—is being monitored. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  “Even the phones? That was the reason for all that fairy-tale Musketeer mumbo jumbo right?”

  “I just have a bad feeling about this. Better safe than sorry.”

  Adria was silent for a moment, then said, “Okay, so, who is this last source person?”

  Dane’s lips quirked. “Her name is Beaudine Delacroix and she’d cane me if she heard herself referred to as a ‘last’ anything.”

  “She must be quite a woman to intimidate ‘the Predator.’ ”

  Dane didn’t disagree. “She works for Zach. Dara calls her a Cajun Mrs. Doubtfire. She’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met in my life.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Present company excepted.”